


Getting By (Obi-Wan Kenobi)

by thespareoom



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Jedi Reader, Non-Explicit Sex, Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25557649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespareoom/pseuds/thespareoom
Summary: Obi-Wan returns from Naboo overwhelmed with grief. Unable to let him suffer alone, you pay a visit to his quarters one night.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	Getting By (Obi-Wan Kenobi)

His anguish blanketed the Temple, even now, in the dead of night. Everyone could feel it, but for you, it was nearly suffocating. Obi-Wan returned from Naboo over a week ago, without his Master and with a Padawan. You’d barely seen him since, no one had. His time was devoted completely to Anakin, spending his days assisting the boy with his lessons to help him catch up with the other students. The two often sparred before dinner, and after, Obi-Wan retreated to his quarters, hidden away until the following morning. That twinkle in his eyes had faded. His grief clawed at your heart, swirling around you every day.  
You laid awake at night, choked by the sheer enormity of his sorrow that he refused to address. Every time you reached out to the Force, his pain slapped you back in the face. Unable to handle the thought of him suffering alone any longer, you grabbed your cloak and padded down the hall to his quarters. The door slid open before you. Moonlight filtered down from the window above his bed, casting soft blue light across his features. It had only been a week, but he seemed older than before, weighed down from the burden he carried. Even in his sleep, he looked worn, restless, exhausted. You draped your cloak across a seat before approaching the side of his bed. As gently as possible, you placed a hand softly on his knee, trying not to startle him.  
“Scoot over,” you whispered.  
“Who’s that?” His voice was groggy, unguarded for once. He squinted up at you, eyes still clouded from sleep.  
“It’s Master Yoda. Who do you think it is? Scoot over.”  
His eyelids were heavy, barely open as he looked up at you. You could see him contemplating if it was worth arguing with you before ultimately deciding against it. Resigned, he moved to the far side of the bed. You lifted the blankets and slid in next to him. Shoving any rationality you had left out of your brain, you stretched out beside him with one arm across his stomach, holding him close. Your head rested on his shoulder, face pressed into the crook of his neck.  
“But the Code…” His breath was uneven, his hand on your arm keeping you against his chest.  
“Shut up, Obi-Wan.”  
“This is a bad idea.” He looped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair.  
“Just for tonight,” you murmured into his neck. “I’m going to stay right here, and you’re not going to protest.”  
Silence filled the room. You watched his chest rise and fall, rise and fall. You had to make sure he kept going. He had to keep going.  
“Are you okay?” he asked you quietly.  
“I cannot believe would ask me that.” He had always had such a reckless disregard for himself, but this? You raised up on one elbow to look at him, incredulous. “After all you’ve been through this past week, you’re worried about me?”  
“It’s not like he didn’t mean something to you too.” He wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Sometimes I think he got on better with you than he ever did with me.”  
He let out a choked laugh that sounded more like a sob. Even now, after he was gone, Obi-Wan still doubted the care and devotion his Master had felt for him. How foolish he was. You felt the depth his pain and grief wash over you anew, threatening to drown you. Leaning down, you pressed your lips softly to his temple.  
“He loved you, Obi-Wan,” you whispered fiercely. “Don’t ever doubt that.”  
His hands came up to hold your face, pulling you down to meet him. His lips were chapped, but they felt warm and soft against yours all the same. An ache cracked open deep inside your chest as you felt the wetness on his cheeks. You clung to him, legs tangled together, kissing him deeper, willing him to feel through the Force how you loved and cherished him.  
Clothes slid off shoulders, hands grasped desperately, trying to pull each other impossibly closer. His hands, his breath, his skin. Who knew a person could be this warm, this soft. He loved you slowly, as if you had all the time in the world, ignoring the coming morning that would tear you apart. Your name, whispered into the night, a desperate plea for something real, something good. You gave everything of yourself to him, trying to say with your body what your words never could, hoping that he might find a bit of himself again. 

The sun slowly crept above the horizon. Neither of you slept, but you were more rested than you had been before. As morning light streaked into the room, you rose. You gathered your cloak in your arms.  
This was a one-time thing, you both said. You promised, it wouldn’t happen again. The grief that threatened to swallow you both had necessitated this night together. You wouldn’t grow attached.  
You both knew that was a lie. You both knew you’d be back. And the next night, when he showed up at your door, neither of you said a word. You tucked him into your arms, into your bed, and tried to squeeze all the shattered pieces of his heart back together.  
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispered, speaking his fears into the quiet night. “He’s supposed to be the Chosen One. His training shouldn’t fall to me. Everyone believes so, even if they won’t say it.”  
“But Qui-Gon asked it of you.” He winced as you said the name. “And you will not fail him.”

Days faded into weeks which turned into months. Obi-Wan stopped coming around late at night to sleep in your arms. He started smiling again. The sparkle returned to his eyes, though not as bright as before. He was healing. Slowly, incompletely, but there was healing still.  
Until one day, something brings him back to you again. Because that was the thing about love. It bonded people, tied their souls together. The bond may stretch with time, but it never broke. You always found your way back to each other again.  
Years passed by, tensions in the galaxy heated up. The Order was called to an Outer Rim planet called Geonosis. What felt like the inevitable had finally happened: the Republic was at war.  
The night you returned from that first battle, everything had changed. Even the Temple itself felt different, darker, listless, like it knew the weight those inside now carried. Your body was exhausted, covered in bruises and bacta patches, but you didn’t rest. You knew he’d be coming. Sleep threatened to take you under, lure you into thoughtless darkness that promised a peace you knew wasn’t real but would be a relief all the same. But you resisted. You knew he was coming. And you waited. Hours after the sun had set, your door opened. He walked in. His cloak was singed, a single scratch crossed his cheek. His eyes bore into yours as he slowly approached your bed.  
“Scoot over.”


End file.
